


Roche's No Good, Rather Bad Day

by Thorny



Series: Witcher Boys in Peril [2]
Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher (Video Game), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: (Literally some Nilfgaard Soldier fodder), (basically sex pollen with roofies), Bondage, Canon-Typical Violence, Choking, Cussing, Deepthroating, Drugged Sex, Extremely Dubious Consent, M/M, Minor Character Death, Minor Injuries, Monsters, Multiple Orgasms, Other, Rape/Non-con Elements, Sex Pollen, Temporary Amnesia, Tentacle Rape, Tentacles, Vines, Wound Care (via licking)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-14
Updated: 2019-06-14
Packaged: 2020-05-12 01:12:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,050
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19218598
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thorny/pseuds/Thorny
Summary: Vernon Roche goes from the frying pan (a regiment of Nilfgaardian soldiers hot on his heels) to the fire (a very lecherous Ancient Leshen).





	Roche's No Good, Rather Bad Day

**Author's Note:**

> Because more than 20 of you crazy cats kudo'd "Sumac's Grove" (and because WooperTrooper and a few of my friends loosely requested it <3) here's poor former commander Vernon Roche running into Sumac, the lecherous Ancient Leshen.

Vernon Roche tore through the underbrush with a Nilfgaard entourage hot at his heels. He cursed and ducked behind a tree as arrows whizzed past his ear, damning his terrible luck. The Temerian had been scouting out the Nilfgaard encampment for the last few days to determine if they needed to move their own hidden camp further away, and in the last few moments of the evening the branch Roche had been hiding on had given way with a crack loud enough to wake the entire countryside.

Roche took a dive for a thick smattering of thorn bushes, hissing as long thorns tore at his surcoat and down to his skin, but he managed to roll out the other side from the cursing Nilfgaardians. They couldn't follow immediately, giving the former commander a decent headstart to outrun their bows.  
He couldn't run in the direction of the cave his guerrilla troops were currently stationed, so he hooked a sharp right and shot deeper into the forest. Losing his enemy was priority one. He could find his way back in a few days. He heard more than saw the Nilfgaardians finally round the thicket, and doubled his attempts to dodge and duck behind trees as arrows cracked against the bark. Roche dared a glance back and furrowed his brow as one of the Nilfgaardians slumped backward in a very odd way, as if the ground had suddenly opened up. The others seemed to have noticed their compatriots’ sudden departure as Vernon started hearing very different yelling. He turned back just in time to nearly run into a tall, spindly tree. He bit back a cry as he swung to the side to avoid the collision and rolled into the brush, hoping whatever had distracted his pursuers wasn't interested in him.

Roche snapped up as he heard pained screaming, watching in half-disbelief as another of the Nilfgaardians was lifted off his feet by thick tree roots, wrapped up and crushed to death in seconds. He vaguely registered hearing the creaking of a tree but felt no wind nor heard leaves shifting. Another Nilfgaardian was crushed with a sickening crunch by the rapidly rising tree roots before the other 4 turned tail, screaming about the forest swallowing them up.  
Roche blinked, shifting his weight carefully as he glanced around, wondering if perhaps the Scoia'tael were closer than he had previously assumed.  
That sound of a creaking tree being a whole lot closer than before pulled the Temerian's attention to the spindly tree he had almost run into, and the man froze. A bleached white animal skull with massive antlers tilted to the side as the hollow sockets stared the man down from the top of the "tree". Roche distantly noted the creature's wooden body was draped in various leather-like clothing scraps along with a few uncomfortably humanoid skulls around its "waist". He vaguely recalled Geralt had mentioned some kind of forest monster at one time… a leshen? He didn't have much time to dwell on anything else the Witcher might have said about the creature as thick tree roots wrapped around his limbs and lifted the human off the ground to be eye-level with the skull's sockets. Roche braced for a painful, crushing death.

Silence.

Vernon slowly blinked open an eye he hadn't realized he had closed, staring into the hollow sockets of the creepy skull. The roots weren't ripping him apart or crushing, simply firmly holding him still. The leshen made another creaking sound as it lifted a single long talon to brush against the torn and bloodied bits of Roche’s sleeve. The Temerian was stumped. This creature mercilessly murdered the Nilfgaardians, but he was interesting enough to live? Unless it had had its fill and wanted to toy with the last victim… Roche carefully shook that thought from his mind. 

The commander swallowed thickly as he tried to think of something to say to this sentient skull staring him down when the vines holding him up shifted their grip. Tiny fuschia flowers suddenly sprouted from the creature’s wooden flesh and Roche confusingly blinked as the little buds popped open, releasing a strange blue pollen. He noticed the smell was extremely pleasant, but he also just as quickly noticed how every whiff made his head start to swim as if he’d had an entire bottle of vodka.  
“Shit…” He eloquently managed as his eyes rolled back, the smell permeating the little grove until all he could smell was that odd sweet scent. The leshen made another rumbling sound as it leaned forward, seeming to enjoy watching the human lose the will to struggle. Roche felt his muscles relax against his will and the roots took his dead weight in stride.  
“Whoa, h-hey now,” he flinched as he felt a few thin vines creep up his limbs, slipping under the folds of his clothes and armor to slither against fevered skin. The artificial drunken haze deepened with every breath the human took, eyelids drooping despite an incredibly dangerous creature watching him intently.  
Roche felt the fastenings of his belt and surcoat coming loose, helplessly watching as his armor fell to the forest floor with dull thuds followed quickly by his underclothes and smallclothes. His dazed conscious couldn’t focus enough to protest as the roots and vines slid along his bared flesh, curling and restraining as they covered his body nearly completely. The leshen moved closer and gently wrapped its long, rough fingers around the Temerian’s injured arm. Something dexterous and wet with slime slid along his wounds and the man’s addled mind slowly realized the creature was licking his blood up with a strange, long black tongue. He should have been disgusted.  
Outraged.  
Struggling to escape.  
Instead, he felt his mind drifting as his body was molested and brought to a slow, building crescendo of drugged pleasure. The leshen gave a long lick along the worst of the wound before pulling away, empty sockets boring into the captive human as he writhed in the forest demon’s living bindings. It moved to lavish its attentions on several thin scrapes across the man’s shoulder before bending to lap at a particularly deep puncture in his back. Vernon bit his lip to try and stifle the sounds escaping him at what should have been absolutely degrading and abhorrent - but it felt so _good._  
The ancient leshen stood when it finished its self-appointed task and tilted its antlered skull as it silently commanded its roots to spread Roche’s thighs, watching the human flush and squirm. It brought a taloned hand down to carefully trace along the pale, scarred flesh. Vines shifted out of its way. Tendons and muscles twitched at its touch. It ghosted the blunt edge of a claw up the straining shaft of its captive, silently amused by the unconscious rutting against the air.  
The leshen let loose another soft sound of branches creaking, watching intently as a thin vine coated in mucus breached the human’s backside. Roche choked on a moan as the vine slithered deeper, rubbing and twisting to stimulate and tease. A second joined the first, dragging another loud groan out of the drugged human.

The leshen watched patiently. These mortals were such fun, but so delicate. It could still taste the fresh blood on its tongue with a relish, but it did not desire to draw more from this one. Its empty sockets slid to where it knew the still warm bodies of the other bothersome mortals that had been chasing this one lay, their mangled and broken corpses trapped in a macabre cage of roots.  
It returned its attention to its living captive when the human moaned brokenly, fingers clenched into tight fists as a third vine wriggled its way into his ass. A fourth wasn’t far behind. A fifth slithered up his neck and across his cheek, slipping inside Roche’s mouth to slide against his tongue.  
Vernon couldn’t think anymore. Between the pollen, the obscene attentions from the terrifying forest monster, and its plant lackeys, his only desire was for release. However, not one of the possibly hundreds of vines and roots would touch his aching length.  
“Ploughing… monster… let me - damnit!” Roche hissed around the vine in his mouth, arching against his restraints as the other vines fucked his ass harder. The leshen finally wordlessly commanded a thicker vine to slither up and wrap around the human’s straining erection. Vernon choked on a breath and moaned, nearly sobbing as he was finally allowed the friction he desperately needed. The vine squeezed and stroked in turn with the squirming mass writhing inside him until the man jerked hard and screamed into the dead quiet of the forest.

The leshen, however, wasn’t quite finished with him. It silently commanded its vines and roots to continue mercilessly, stroking the weakly struggling human back to full arousal. Roche brokenly pleaded as his mind tried to reassert itself, however the grove was still thick with the creature’s pollen. In a mere few breaths the Temerian was once again a slave to the quickly building pleasure.  
The vines in his ass twisted on a particularly hard thrust and pressed up against a spot that dragged a ragged sound out of Vernon. The vine undulating against his tongue tentatively slid further inside, pressing down the human’s throat. Roche jerked and choked, eyes wide and unseeing as the vine retracted and forced its way deeper in a slow, lewd counter to the vines filling and pounding his ass. The leshen tilted its skull and lifted a hand to carefully trace a talon along the human’s contracting neck as it watched the invading vine visibly fill its captive. Vernon felt the edges of his vision fade as he struggled to breathe around the invasion.  
The leshen seemed to notice the real distress breaking through the pollen’s effects in the man’s expression as it made another odd creaking sound and the vine retracted completely, leaving Roche’s mouth with a wet pop. He coughed reflexively, blinking back tears as each breath burned in his chest and somehow inexplicably made the heat coiling in his belly tighten. The rest of the vines and roots redoubled their efforts and the one wrapped around his shaft constricted and stroked him roughly with singular intent.  
Vernon swallowed with a twinge, moaning hoarsely as a second orgasm was ripped out of him and blessed every star as he lost consciousness, slumping weakly into his writhing bindings.

The ancient leshen commanded the roots and vines to slowly remove themselves from the spent human’s unconscious body, gently lowering him to the forest floor before dispelling the living restraints. The Temerian’s wounds had stopped freely bleeding at some point, the skin still glistening with the leshen’s strange saliva as they noticeably looked partially healed.  
Its skull tilted to the side as the leshen made a soft creaking sound before it knelt down to brush a stray sweat-slicked lock of dark hair from Roche’s slack face with a careful talon. An otherworldly sound bubbled up from its unseen maw as a tiny dark mark formed just behind the human’s right ear; innocuous as any natural mole. The leshen hissed softly as it straightened, disappearing into the darkness of its forest.

\-----

Vernon groggily woke some hours later, clutching his head with a pained groan. The headache was splitting his skull in two. His mouth and throat felt bone dry. His tongue felt like sandpaper. The rest of him was sore and achy. He was never touching whatever booze he’d gotten ahold of yesterday again. Apparently, it was some nasty stuff.  
He managed to force himself to a sitting position, rubbing his eyes until he could trust his vision and stopped short. Where the hell was he? And… why was he naked?  
“Ugh,” Roche grumbled, dropping his head into his hands. So long as he didn’t do anything stupid in front of the men - or heaven forbid, Ves - he was just going to find his clothes and deny everything.

A Raven watched the man from a nearby branch as he grumpily gathered his things, tugged on his clothes and chaperon, and stalked off to find the edge of the forest, completely missing the mangled corpses of his former pursuers as the commander grumbled and cussed about drinking entirely too much.

**Author's Note:**

> This has turned into a full series as I come up with scenarios for these poor boys...
> 
> I also adore comments! Even if its to tell me how horrible I am for writing these~


End file.
